Page 74 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Nikolai watched Elliot drop to his knees in front of Vitale and red clouded his vision so vividly that he almost fumbled his lock pick. His quick reflexes saved him.

He was grateful as fuck that he’d decided to wear Gerard’s gift today.

Otherwise he would have had to break his thumbs to get out of the cuffs, and he already knew he’d need every advantage he could scrape together to leave this building alive.

Between Vitale, his knife, the gun on his hip, and the dozen-odd men in the rest of the building, the odds were stacked against him.

And it wasn’t just him. He had to get both himself and Elliot out, because Elliot had managed to talk his way into Nikolai’s torture chamber, and Nikolai understood maybe why he’d done it, because so far Elliot had bought Nikolai a lot of much needed time.

Being smart and beautiful and so fucking brave, but if Nikolai survived this, he was going to give Elliot such a lecture about putting himself in danger.

And then buy him about a million stuffed animals for getting through all of this.

If Nikolai survived.

Which he had to do. If only to make sure that Vitale would never hurt Elliot again.

Nikolai sucked in a deep breath to try and chase the rage away so he could focus. His nose throbbed, likely broken from Vitale’s fist, but the pain was background noise. He needed just a minute more and he’d be free of these cuffs, and then he could fucking rip Vitale apart.

Elliot was on his knees, tears streaming down his face, and Vitale was eyeing him like prey. Nikolai had never hated anyone as much as he did Vitale then.

“Yeah El?” Vitale was saying, throwing Nikolai a vicious grin. “You want to please me?”

“Can I, Matty?” Elliot asked, voice breathy and obviously terrified. “Please?”

“My good little slut,” Vitale said, fisting a hand in Elliot’s hair. Nikolai choked on fury, but forcefully kept his expression blank. He wouldn’t give Vitale the pleasure. “Can’t even wait, can you? You’re gagging for it.”

Elliot nodded, parting his lips.

“Go on then,” Vitale said, dropping the knife on a nearby chair seat before sinking his other hand into Elliot’s hair too. “You can show the Russian pig what he’s going to miss before he dies.”

Elliot raised trembling fingers to pop the button on Vitale’s slacks and slide the zipper down.

Several things happened at once.

Elliot pushed closer, nuzzling at Vitale’s bulge.

Nikolai’s cuff clicked open.

And the sound of gunfire rang out in the room beyond.

Vitale jerked back from Elliot, cursing, hand going to draw his gun, but by then Nikolai had leapt up out of his chair, slamming into Vitale and bringing them both to the ground.

“You motherfucker!” Vitale roared. He turned, trying to slam his fist into Nikolai’s face as he scrabbled for the gun. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Nikolai didn’t bother wasting breath on threatening him back.

Instead, he grabbed Vitale’s hand and smashed it as hard as he could into the floor, over and over again, feeling the bones break with a sick sense of satisfaction.

These were hands that had hurt Elliot, and Nikolai was going to make Vitale regret ever touching him.

Make it so that Vitale could never touch Elliot ever again.

Vitale yelled and twisted his body, bringing his elbow up and driving it toward Nikolai’s face.

Nikolai couldn’t risk getting a hit on his already broken nose, and so he threw himself to the side, but it unbalanced him and Vitale, a big man in his own right, was able to use his leverage to roll them over.

Vitale grinned down at him and raised—the knife he’d grabbed from where it’d fallen when they’d crashed into the chair in their tussle.

Distantly, Nikolai heard Elliot scream.

But Nikolai wasn’t out yet, not by a long shot.

As the knife came down, Nikolai threw up his arm to catch the blade with his forearm.

The pain was a hot slash through the fabric and into skin, but he’d been trained on worse, and it only sharpened his focus.

His other hand shot out and grabbed at Vitale’s broken hand, squeezing savagely.

Vitale shrieked and reared backwards, and Nikolai followed the motion. He sat up and pushed forward, punching Vitale hard in the side of the head as his other hand closed around the wrist still holding the knife.

“I’m going to fucking cut you to pieces,” Vitale snarled, trying to stab with the knife. But Nikolai locked his arm and kept the blade away from his body, even as blood from his wounded arm dripped everywhere. He fisted a hand in Mattia’s hair, driving his head down into the floor hard.

Fuck , he hoped Elliot wasn’t watching this.

Vitale bucked up, screaming and flailing underneath him, and Nikolai saw too late him bringing his broken hand up, right into Nikolai’s face.

The pain of his broken nose getting jarred again was blinding.

Nikolai blinked stars out of his eyes, spitting blood out of his mouth, just in time to see the knife descend again.

He threw up his injured arm just in time for another wet slice of the blade through skin.

Mentally he discarded the pain and managed to roll out of the way, missing another knifing and—

And spotted Vitale’s gun on the floor, where Nikolai had caused him to drop it.

Nikolai dove forward, blood hot in his mouth, smeared on his hands, as he snatched up the gun. He turned to face Vitale, who was spitting curses, madness completely eclipsing his expression.

“Elliot, close your eyes!” Nikolai commanded, not taking his eyes of Vitale.

Vitale’s eyes narrowed, so much like a predator ready to pounce. His hand tightened on the blood-covered knife. Nikolai saw the moment, knew he couldn’t wait.

Vitale let out a roar and went to spring at him, knife out, and Nikolai pulled the trigger.

Everything stopped.

The body in front of him slumped to the ground, still and silent. Nikolai held the position, hand clenched tight around the gun for a long second, then two. Waiting to see if Vitale would move again. It’d been a perfect shot, but his training held him there.

But blood kept pooling out from the body and Nikolai’s shoulders finally slumped. It was done.

Panting, Nikolai watched himself engage the gun’s safety. He rose slowly to standing on uncertain legs. His heart was pounding and he still felt on high alert for danger.

He turned to scan the room and found Elliot curled up back behind the table, eyes closed and hands over his ears. Even from the distance Nikolai could see he was shaking.

It took three strides to reach him. He put himself between Elliot and the sight of the body, set the gun on the floor, and then reached down to touch Elliot’s shoulder.

“Is now safe,” Nikolai murmured, voice rough. “You’re safe.”

Elliot’s pretty hazel eyes opened, now red and puffy from crying. He caught himself on a sob and listed forward, and Nikolai immediately bent and wrapped his arms around him, holding tight. Elliot turned into him, collapsing against his chest, sobbing.

“Is okay, is okay,” he said into Elliot’s hair. Nikolai squeezed him, and felt sorry about the blood transferring to Elliot’s clothes. Sorry about the horror Elliot had just gone through.

What Elliot had almost been made to do.

What he’d been willing to do, for Nikolai’s sake.

Fuck, Nikolai didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve the goodness of this man.

Behind him, he heard the sound of the door opening. Tension snapped back into him and his hand reached automatically for the gun.

“Get behind me,” Nikolai told Elliot, pulling away and slipping off the safety. “Stay low and quiet, okay? And don’t look. You should not have to see.”

Elliot covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide and filling with tears as he nodded hurriedly.

“Good,” Nikolai said as he aimed for the doorway.

And immediately lowered his gun when Gerard stepped through, having clearly spotted Vitale down in the middle of the floor.

Gerard’s whole face brightened when his eyes found Nikolai’s. He holstered his gun as he strode further into the room. “You fucking bastard! What’d you go and get kidnapped for?”

“Is my big plan,” Nikolai said. His throat was dry and his adrenaline was starting to drop, the pain and exhaustion seeping in.

“Think maybe your plan not exciting enough.” Safety reset, Nikolai set the gun on the table and crouched down to Elliot.

“Is Gerard,” he told him softly. “My people. We are safe now. Okay?”

“Okay,” Elliot whispered, uncurling slightly.

“That’s a fuckton of blood,” Gerard said, all business. “How much of it is yours?”

He looked down, assessing his own ruined shirt.

“Vitale got me with knife,” Nikolai admitted, coaxing Elliot to standing.

Normally Nikolai would just scoop him up, but the pain in his nose and the cuts on his arm made that a liability.

The last thing this day needed was for him to drop Elliot because he overestimated how much strength he had left.

“Okay,” Gerard said. “Good thing Meredith’s already sending the Doc to your place.”

Nikolai hummed in acknowledgement. The blood and body was a lot though. More than Elliot should have to see.

“Don’t look,” Nikolai told Elliot. “Okay? Don’t look. Look up.” Elliot nodded and turned his face to the ceiling. Nikolai turned to Gerard. “Anyone else hurt?”

“Polina took a bullet to the shoulder, but that’s about it,” Gerard said. “They were sloppy.”

“They were stupid,” Nikolai said, taking Elliot’s hand.

“Also that,” Gerard allowed, leading the way as Nikolai guided Elliot forward. “I’ll take care of clean-up. Alex is here, he’ll drive you back.”

Nikolai nodded his thanks, then carefully led Elliot out of the room and down the hallway, out of the building. Gerard covered them, gun drawn.

But all the Italians had been taken care of, and they made it outside without any further incident.

Nikolai blinked at the bright sunshine. It was still morning. It was looking to be a beautiful, warm day.

Alex met them there and led them to one of the several cars outside, unlocking it. Nikolai opened the door and guided Elliot into the back before getting in after him. Alex got in the driver’s seat.

“You okay, Boss?” Alex asked. Nikolai looked down at himself again. In the bright sunshine, blood really was… everywhere.

“I’ll live,” he said, buckling himself in. “Gerard said Doc’s at the house?”

“Yeah, Boss,” Alex said, starting up the car.

“Then I’ll certainly live that long,” Nikolai said. He turned to Elliot. “Elliot? We’re going home, okay?”

Elliot nodded, and he hiccuped another sob before sinking his teeth ruthlessly into his lower lip.

“Shh, shh,” Nikolai said, hovering his hands uncertainly. Would Elliot want more touch? Not want touch? Fuck, Nikolai was covered in blood—he’d already gotten blood all over Elliot’s shirt. “Shh, is okay. You’re safe. You’re safe, Elliot.”

Elliot nodded, shoulders shaking. He didn’t look like he believed Nikolai.

“No biting, okay?” Nikolai said helplessly. “Please, Elliot. Is okay now. We can go home.”

“Okay,” Elliot whispered. “Yes, please, I-I want to go home.”